Текст песни The Commercial (King Missile) с переводом

Lately, I’ve seen red

I’ve tasted blood

I’ve killed with words

I’ve wished and hoped and

Swam through a river of snot

Twice as wide as the mighty Mississippi

But I wanna know

About the commercial I saw on TV

An Irish guy

Walking through a field of green

Whistling one of those Irish jigs

And a woman walks up and says

«Manly yes, but I like it too.»

Then the guy pulls out a huge knife

And cuts off his first two fingers

And somehow catches them

In what’s left of his left hand

And hands them to the woman

Did I mention they’re both dressed in green?

Then they both sing this song together

«Are ya icky? Are ya sticky?

Are ya hot as anything?

Hey cut off two of your fingers

And stab yourself in the eye!»

Then he stabs himself in the eye

And hands her the knife

And she stabs herself in the eye

Okay? okay? so what about that?

Then they join arms

And do this Irish folk dance

While taking turns dismembering each other

This was a commercial for deodorant, I think

Or soap or something

So now all the body parts

Are lying in a heap

But the heads are still singing

«Are ya icky? Are ya sticky?

Are ya hot as anything?

Hey! get away from summer

And cut off all your limbs!»

Then all of the body parts

Start hopping and bopping around

Like little bunny rats

Then they jump into the mouths of the singing heads

But then they just slip right back out

Through the severed necks and keep bopping about

It’s very beautiful music that’s playing

There’s an Irish flute

And a mandolin, I think

And the background singers sound

Just like the Clancy brothers

It’s really a wonderful commercial

Spectacular

It must’ve cost a fortune to make

The kind of commercial you’d see

During the Super Bowl, maybe

Where the advertising time costs

A million dollars a half a minute

Wow, imagine that

A million dollars for a half a minute!

Anyway, by the end of it

It looks like the two of them

Have been through a juicer

Or a food processor

Or a blender or something

It’s just a pink puree of blood, bone and flesh in a big bucket

But it’s still singing somehow

«Are ya icky? Are ya sticky?

Are ya hot as anything?

Hey! Blend yourself, process yourself

Become a glass of animal juice!»

«Haven't you had enough

Of fruit juices and vegetable juices?

Next time company comes over

Offer them a cool refreshing glass of yourself!

Give of yourself

Stop being such a selfish piece of snot

Okay? Okay? Okay!»

«And now, back to our program.»

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